Believe
by OurLordandSaviorMoose
Summary: What happens to Sherlock and Molly after TFP(as if there's not enough of these already ;p). I'm awful at summaries and I promise the story is much more eloquent. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic was based off of Mumford & Son's _Believe._ It takes place after TFP but before the final montage. It's just how Sherlock and Molly made up. I don't know how this is going to go rating-wise so just keep an eye on it.

 _I don't even know if I believe,_

 _Everything you're trying to say to me._

 _So open up my eyes,_

 _Tell me I'm alive._

 _This is never gonna go our way,_

 _If I'm gonna have to guess what's on your mind._

Molly slid down the door and rested her face in her hands. Mycroft had just left after explaining what happened at Sherrinford. So the phone call was all just one big show. He never meant what he said. She should have known. She was so stupid. She wanted to believe but part of her knew. Oh she was so incredibly stupid! Molly didn't know what to feel. She knew she souldn't be mad at him, he was saving her life, or so he thought. But she was. She was mad at him and herself and Euros and Mycroft.

"Aaarrrrgggg!" Molly stood up and punched the door. "Ow." She cradled he knuckles and walked over to the fridge. Thankfully Molly learned very early in their relationship that ice cream takes a little bit of the sting out of Sherlock's words. She opened the freezer door and examined her collection. After a few minutes, she decided on chocolate chip cookie dough and flopped onto the couch to resume the sappy rom-com Mycroft had interrupted.

After a few more pints of ice cream and another cheesy movie, Molly started to doze off.

~o.0.o~

Molly awoke to a sharp knock on the door. She looked down to find a pool of melted rocky road on her chest. "Crud." Another knock. The clock on the DVD player said she had taken a two hour nap. "Just a second!" She pulled off her sticky sweatshirt and observed her blue tanktop. A little damp but it would do. She turned off the T.V. and pulled her hair into a bun as she walked over to the door.

The little stool was pushed over to the side of the door from Mycroft's visit. She kicked it back under the peephole and used it to look through. A fidgety mop of curls danced outside her door. She put her forehead on the door with a thump causing Sherlock to jump. "Sherlock, I'm really not in the mood. I can't help you at the morgue today, I don't want to talk, and I look like the rear-end of a cow so please come back later." She waited for a response.

Nothing but silence came through the door and Molly looked once more through the peephole, expecting him to have left. He was still there. His forehead pressed against the door where hers was. "Please." Molly almost didn't hear the breathy whisper.

"Sherlock?"

"Please Molly. I-I just…" He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders, "I can't sleep at 221B. I'm sure Mycroft informed you about that. I was wondering if I might be able to-er-maybe sleep over here? Just until Mycroft gets the flat fixed."

Molly sighed and stepped off the stool. She was too tired to argue about a hotel room. "Alright." She opened the door and stepped aside. "Just, no talking, please." To her surprise, he stood in the doorway instead of sweeping in and making himself at home like usual. "Well?" He just stared at her and blinked, his mouth slightly agape. "Are you just gonna sleep there tonight?"

Sherlock opened and closed his mouth before he could squeak out, "You're-you're not-wearing a bra." Molly looked down at her outfit: fuzzy socks, sweatpants and her sticky tank top with nothing underneath. Now she remembered, she didn't put a bra on because she had her favorite baggy sweatshirt on over.

Her cheeks got red, "Just come in and I'll be right back." Sherlock finally stepped into the flat and she rushed into her room to change. She went to take off her shirt and suddenly felt very oily and sticky. Molly slumped over. A bath sounded wonderful at the moment but she knew she wouldn't be able to get comfortable with Sherlock in the flat. A shower would have to do. Gathering her pajamas she set off to take a very long, hot shower.

~o.0.o~

Molly walked out of her room, her hair twisted up in a towel and wearing the only pjs that weren't bright or cutesy. She didn't know why she was trying to impress him. Oh she was hopeless. After years of fighting to get over this childish crush, he found a way to pull her back in. Sherlock sat on her couch, not moving. "What are you buffering about now?" Sherlock jumped at the sound of her voice but didn't answer. "If this is because I wasn't wearing a bra-"

"No." He still wouldn't look at her.

"Do you wanna talk?"

"I thought you said you didn't."

Molly shrugged, "Shower opened a small window."

"Right. Well I guess I should start with-"

"Do you love me?" Molly blurted out and immediately smacked both hands over her mouth, blushing furiously.

Sherlock gaped at her. "Molly I would have thought our conversation made that very clear."

Gaining confidence at Sherlock's startled expression, Molly stared at him, "Yes or no, Sherlock." She searched his face, waiting for an answer. After several seconds that seemed to stretch to an eternity, Sherlock took in a breath.

"No."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So to make up for the short first chapter I tried to upload this as quick as possible. I'm going to go ahead and tell you that the uploads will most likely never be this close again so savor it! Please review!

"Why would you say no you clot?!" John paced in front of Sherlock who was sitting on a chair in the corner of his hotel room with steepled fingers. "The woman you love asked if you did in fact love her and you. Said. No?!"

"I thought it would be kinder. She already knew the circumstances of the phone call and thought I didn't mean it. Judging by the empty ice cream containers, she had found a way of dealing with it. I didn't want to reopen the wound by telling her yes. Besides, that would leave room for doubts. It would've just tortured her!" Sherlock couldn't watch his friend pace, it made him antsy and this hotel room wasn't big enough for the both of them to pace.

"You know, in your own way, that was very considerate and kind of you. But this will torture the both of you now. Not only have you painted yourself into a corner, but you've handed Molly the paintbrush and made her think she's done it. So now you're both stuck in this situation until the paint dries."

"And when will that be John?" Sherlock looked up at John who had stopped pacing.

"When you finally clear the air and let it dry."

~o.0.o~

Sherlock knocked on Molly's door once more. He was slightly startled when the door opened right away and was greeted by Molly's stone cold glare. He figured she had hardened over the three days it had taken him to pluck up the courage to talk to her. Yet he was still taken aback by the way she held herself. She stood straight, her chin held high. Her very posture demanded respect and sent a chill down his spine. "Molly, I was hoping I could-"

"No."

"Pardon?"

"No, Sherlock. Now bug off." She went to slam the door but was stopped by his foot.

"But, I don't understand. Why-"

"Neither do I. But that's all you gave me so that's all you're getting." Without another word, she shut the door. Sherlock didn't protest this time. He deserved that. He really did. But he didn't know what to do now except stand frozen, buffering.

~o.0.o~

Molly sank down onto the couch, tears streaming down her face. She tried to convince herself she did the right thing. It had felt good at the moment, the look on his face enough to keep her from shrinking back or apologising. Now she felt torn apart. She felt horrible and she knew Sherlock did too. She might have just squashed any chance of reconciliation. Correction, she _definitely_ squashed any chance of reconciliation. She tried to watch some telly but her gross sobbing drowned out whatever the newscaster was saying about another rumor of a terrorist attack.

She stood up, not sure what to do. She looked around the flat, sat back down, stood up again and strode decidedly towards the bathroom.

As the water filled the tub, Molly made herself a cuppa and opened Netflix on her tablet. Thinking for a minute, she nodded as she placed everything on a tray and opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. She opened the squat little box that had been sitting in her cabinet for months, waiting for a special occasion. The blue and pink bath bomb with golden flecks gleamed up at her. It was a piece of art and it was almost a shame to use it. Molly clicked her tongue and slowly lowered it into the water. She smiled as it fizzed and bubbled, turning her bath into the night sky.

Turning on one of her dramas, Molly settled into the warm water and sipped her tea.

~o.0.o~

"What do I do now?" Sherlock sat on John's couch, cradling his head in his hands.

"Sherlock, this is the fifth time you've asked me and for the fifth time: let me think!" John sat on the chair across from him with a full cup of tea in his hands. Sherlock glared at him. "In case you forgot, which is highly unlikely, my brain doesn't work as fast as yours. Give me a minute to process and think of what to do next." Silence.

Sherlock stood and shifted around. "I need something to do John." He said quietly. Trying not to provoke him but knowing that if he sat still for much longer Scotland Yard would find him in under John's flower bed with bruises around his throat.

John stood up and pulled a metal ring puzzle from a drawer under the tv. He dropped it on the glass coffee table. "Solve it and deduce what you can about it." Sherlock picked it up. "Quietly." John added as an afterthought. The detective picked up the metal contraption and furrowed his brow.

~o.0.o~

"Molly, please believe me." He looked at her, his eyes full of love and sincerity. "I love you."

"But you said-" Molly looked down.

"That doesn't matter." Sherlock lifted her chin. "I was scared. I was scared of myself. I didn't want to hurt you but I think I made it worse." Molly just nodded. He smiled slightly. "Is there ever any time I don't?" Molly returned his smile. "Well I truly am sorry. And I truly do love you."

Molly smiled genuinely this time. "I love you too Sh-"

"Jack!" Molly woke up with a start in time to see Jack turn around and jump off his horse to run and kiss Elizabeth.

"Oh bugger, I've missed two episodes." She muttered to herself. The night sky in her bath had turned into Molly's blue-tinted legs and torso. She shivered, suddenly aware of the water temperature. Wrapping her arms around herself she thought back on her dream. _A dream, that's all that was._ She reminded herself. Molly squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears fell into the water. Sherlock, with eyes still full of love and adoration, seemed to be painted on her eyelids. She shook her head but he didn't budge. His image enveloped her, a faint warmth spreading along her arms. The heat vanished the moment she opened her eyes. Molly pulled the plug and stood up to grab a towel.

"What am I going to do Toby." The orange tabby sniffed the puddle of water Molly had dripped onto the tile. He looked up at her and mewed. She sighed. "I don't know either but I think some wine and a nice bowl of ice cream might help." Toby trailed after her into her room, dodging the small puddles she left in her path. 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks so much for all the feedback! Big squishy hugs to all of you who read, followed, favorited and/or reviewed! I really really appreciate your reviews. They mean the world to me and whenever I'm feeling down I read all your lovely comments and they make me all warm and fuzzy.

* * *

Sherlock stabbed the clipping from the paper onto the unmarked mantle. 221B was back, but it still needed some Homlsey(see what I did there? :D Alright I'll go now) touches "It just doesn't make sense! Who would release a statement saying there _might_ be an attack but not give any evidence or even a follow-up statement?!"

"Maybe they just wanted attention." John had given up putting much thought into his responses.

"But they remained anonymous. Who would do that? It feels so obvious. I just need to focus but she won't let me. Why won't you let me focus!" At this John looked up at Sherlock who had his eyes squeezed shut and his hands shaking up by his head. "Who would say something that puts people in a scared and confused state but not give any reason or, or information or anything?" John knew he was talking about Molly now. He felt bad for the both of them. It was like watching a one of Mary's dramas. John swallowed and shut his eyes for a moment. His fingers halted on the keyboard causing Sherlock to open his eyes and turn. "Oh look at the pair of us, our love-lives are in quite a state. Do I have that now? A love life? Seems so. A pitiful one but nonetheless." Sherlock took a deep breath, his eyes darted around the wall decorated with newspaper clippings, photos and string but nothing registered, "What have you done to me, Molly Hooper?"

~o.0.o~

Molly put her spoon in the sink and sipped her tea. She checked her phone again. Nothing. Nothing from Bart's, nothing from Meena, and nothing from Sherlock. Not that she expected anything from Sherlock. It would be nice to see him again though, even if it's just to deliver a foot. She took another sip. Why shouldn't she text him? _Because he was the senseless monster who toyed with my emotions. And my love._ She set down her phone. _In all fairness,_ Molly's more sensible side countered, _so did you._ She went to pick up her phone again. _And when has Sherlock ever cared about fairness? Or your feelings?_ Molly furrowed her brow and nodded. Setting down her phone, she congratulated herself for her resolve with a glass of wine. She held up the bottle. After it went untouched for a month and a half, Molly had drained it in a little over a week. She sighed, "What have you done to me, Sherlock Holmes?"

~o.0.o~

Sherlock picked up a piece of toast but didn't bring it to his mouth. He scrolled through his phone. It didn't make sense. There's nothing new, just the same thing circulating, being rephrased and causing more and more panic. "There's not even new information and people are running around like headless chickens. Who said it? Where did it start?" Sherlock looked at the computer screen and put the toast in his mouth to free up his hand. He clicked the source link for the fifth time which brought him back to the first site.

"Maybe they're bragging." John took a bite of his own toast.

"Wamf?" Sherlock looked up at his friend, trying to talk around the toast.

"I dunno, I didn't think you'd actually listen."

Sherlock bit the toast and swallowed before attempting to speak again. "Bragging? Who would brag about a threat of a terrorist attack?"

"Maybe the terrorist. You know, distract them and learn what and where they defend the most."

"Oh? Oh. Oh! Oh that is brilliant! John that is absolutely brilliant!"

"What part?"

"Both. But for two different cases."

"You have another case?" John looked at his friend inquisitively. "You said you didn't want any new cases. You said you were afraid you would, your words not mine, 'muck them up'. Which I initially thought was ridiculous but after seeing you with this," He gestured to the nest of electronics and papers that surrounded Sherlock, "I'd say you made the right decision."

"Of course I have a case. A most important case and you've just given me an idea on how to solve it." Sherlock pulled on his coat and turned up his collar. "I'm going out."

~o.0.o~

Molly sat outside of the cafe waiting for Meena. The air was filled with the sweet scent of flowers. Carnations and hydrangeas hung from the railings while lilies and peonies sat at the center of each table. Molly admired the floral mug.

"Oohoo!" Molly looked up as Meena sat down across from her. "I see why you like this place." She looked around at all the flowers.

"I love the jade vines. They're so rare." Molly looked at the turquoise flowers that draped from everything. "I tried to buy a clipping from them and have a plant in my kitchen but either they're really finicky or I'm really bad at taking care of flowers. With my history, I'd favor the later." Molly and Meena giggled.

"Oh I don't know, jade vines can be a pit picky." Anette came up, wiping her hands on her apron. Anette had become Molly's regular server and a very interesting girl. "I've got to stay back and bring them in if it gets below 10 degrees. And even if it's 20, a cool breeze will kill them. Anyways," She pulled out her book, "What can I get you ladies?"

"I'll have the quiche of the day." Molly took a sip of her tea and glanced at Meena, who scoured the menu.

"Umm… I don't know. Molly, what do you suggest?"

"I think you'd like the ham and pesto panini."

"Sounds good! I'll have that." Meena nodded and Anette scribbled her order down.

"Alright ladies! I'll be back soon with your order."

Anette went inside and Meena immediately moved the flowers out of the way and leaned forward. "Alright, something's up with you and you-know-who. Spill."

Molly chuckled, "Sorry, I'm not talking that easily. You'll have to up your game."

"Fine, we'll do this rapid-fire."

Molly laughed, "Good luck."

Meena took a deep breath.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock burst into the flat. "I've got it John! I have what I need!"

John looked up from his phone and frowned, "You're gonna have to elaborate."

Sherlock shrugged off his coat. "Molly always goes to _Café de Fleurs_ for brunch every Tuesday and Friday. She was meeting her friend and I knew they would be talking about things Molly would be a little sore about. I decided to see what subjects she got defencive about and what subjects make her more comfortable."

John pinched the bridge of his nose, "Don't tell me you hid in the bushes and stalked Molly."

"Alright I won't." And with that, Sherlock set off to devise a battle plan.


	4. Chapter 4

Molly spritzed the turquoise hooks Anette had given her as a gift along with a list of instructions and a beautiful light brown ceramic pot with a flat back. It was currently pushed against the wall on a thin shelf to let the vines hang down and curl against the deep cherry frame and curtain the horrendous baby picture Molly's mother insisted she keep on display every time she visits. She hummed quietly and padded over to her beeping phone. The last note came out as a squeak when she saw John's text:

 **Vatican Cameos ~JW**

Battlestations. Molly set down her phone and took a deep breath. Sherlock was coming. She shuffled into her room and loosed a breath at her reflection. The hem of her sweater was slightly frayed and there was a dark spot of something on her jeans. Molly opened her closet and a very devilish voice made her smirk. _Make him regret making you cry. You wanted him to see how strong you are._ Her smirk turned into a grin as she snatched the skimpy dark blue dress from the hanger.

~o.0.o~

Sherlock knocked on the door as he went through his mental notes once more. "Coming Luke!" He heard Molly call from the back of the flat. Luke? Who's Luke? "On second thought, just come in I'm a bit preoccupied." Sherlock reached for the handle and hesitated. "Well? If you don't come in we're gonna be late for our reservation!" He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as if it would cause every thought nagging at him to fall to the floor. He opened the door and his eyes grew wide at the woman that stood before him. The blue fabric that Sherlock wasn't even sure he could call a dress was only enough to cover the extremities and even then, barely. With a vee so low the it came down to her navel and no back to speak of, it took every ounce of self control for Sherlock not to ogle her. "Oh, it's just you Sherlock. Well since you're here can you zip me up?" Molly turned her back to him while she continued putting up her hair, exposing the bow at the nape of her neck that was the only thing keeping the ensemble from falling to the floor. Well, that and the fact that the dress hugged her hips so tightly.

Sherlock was frozen. "Uh-u-um… Molly?" She looked back at him and raised her eyebrows expectantly. "I just came to, er, talk about… um, well…"

"Spit it out."

Sherlock chuckled, "It might sound a bit, er, anyways don't take this…" He took in a breath, "Us." He spit out the word and cringed internally. Molly's hands froze in her hair. "It-it's not like- I mean- You shouldn't-"

Molly giggled, "No no I get it it's ok."

"Why are you laughing?" Sherlock felt his chest tighten.

Molly let out a slight gasp, "No, Sherlock, I'm not-oh I feel like a jerk." She composed herself once more. "I just can't remember ever hearing you stutter. It's not a bad thing, It just surprised me." Sherlock just nodded his head. He hadn't realised how much pull Molly had on his emotions. "Well, moving on, what did you come to talk about, exactly?"

"Um, I just wanted to talk, really. Not about anything specific." Sherlock clasped his hands behind his back and applauded himself for adjusting so quickly. Molly nodded, seeming to forget about her half-done hairdo. Something new nagged at Sherlock. He glanced at the clock on the wall. He had been here for almost five minutes. Where was this Luke? "So, where are you and, _Luke_ going this evening?"

Molly went to tug on the hem of a non-existent sleeve. "Oh, we're just going out. He picked last time so I get to decide where we go tonight. I'm thinking maybe dinner. Or clubbing. I hear there's this really posh sort of club that just opened up. You know, where it's actually classy and not just a bunch of people having seizures under strobe lights while they chug cheap booze…" Sherlock stopped paying attention to Molly's babbling. Hadn't she said reservation earlier? It was already seven thirty and if the reservation was at eight, wouldn't it be polite to show up at least five minutes before you have to leave? Of course she could've been meeting him at the restaurant but Sherlock guessed not judging by the lack of surprise in her voice when he knocked. And if she expected Luke soon why isn't she acting like she's still waiting for him? Better yet why isn't he here? And by the way Molly is dressed, Sherlock would think she'd make it a priority to finish her hair and complete the look. Everything clicked into place and Sherlock began to smirk.

~o.0.o~

Molly paused her entirely to elaborate tale when she saw Sherlock start smirking. Why couldn't she ever just shut up? She huffed and crossed her arms in the most annoyed way possible, "What is it Sherlock?"

His smirk turned into an all-out grin. "Oh nothing. Just wondering when the mysterious Luke will show up."

He knew. He knew Luke wasn't real and he knew how pathetic she was. Molly debated whether she should come clean or dig herself in deeper. She knew she should just confess before he called her out on it. ANd the longer she fought, the worse it would be. "He might just be late." She heard herself blurt out another lie. What was she doing?!

Sherlock wiped the smile off his face, "Ah, of course, traffic and whatnot." What was he playing at? "Well that gives us more time to talk."

"Yes I guess it does." Molly proceed cautiously. "So, what's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing of interest. How's work?"

"Work is… good, I guess."

"What do you think about Leane?"

"Leane?"

"Yes the new girl, Leane."

"You mean Elain?"

"Same thing."

"I, er, she's ok. I don't really know her that well." Something didn't seem right to Molly. What was it?

"I hear," Sherlock seemed to choke on the words, "That she fancies Tony."

"Tim?" Then it hit her, this is the same information she and Meena discussed the other day… "Sherlock!"

"No I'm pretty sure you were right the first time, it was Tim."

"No, Sherlock, were you stalking me?!"

"I wasn't stalking, per se-"

"That is just wrong on so many levels." Molly stormed down the hall towards her bedroom.

"You know what's wrong?"

She wasn't about to let Sherlock win. No way he'd get the last word again. "Sher-"

"No, what's wrong is you lying about a date and using it as an excuse to dress up in this strip of fabric because you knew I was coming over. You knew that I'd see you like this and you knew it would get my attention. Well what can I say, it worked. But the fact that I haven't been able to look away from you has very little to do with the dress." Molly's stomach churned and a blush crept up her neck. She suddenly felt too exposed and a little chilly.

Silence. Molly and Sherlock stared at each other from down the hall. Sherlock was frowning slightly and Molly's mouth was hanging open. _Close your mouth you bumbling idiot!_ She closed her mouth and swallowed. _Good, now say something before this gets any more awkward._ "Sherlock." She rasped. _Perfect._ He closed the distance between them. "Sherlock…" _No stupid! That was sarcasm! I didn't mean for you to say it again!_ He leaned closer. Molly cleared her throat, "You-you should go."

Sherlock stepped away and nodded. "Yes, I should." He walked over and opened the door. Before he stepped into the hall he turned, "Goodnight, Molly Hooper."

* * *

 **A/N: What's this? An update? Wow look at that it is! Yeah, sorry. I would try to blame life and make a bajillion excuses but honestly I was just lazy. And even more honestly, I'm saving those excuses for another time. ;) Anyways, thanks to those who stuck through the Time of Silence and let me know what you think. Oh, by the way, I'm trying out this new layout, I think I like it better. If you have any strong opinions(or weak ones) feel free to let me know.**


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